The Acostas
by newgirlintown212
Summary: Heather can't control herself. Casey can't control his feelings. Now what?
1. Preview POV

**HEATHER acosta: Since the time I saw her, the time she _touched _me, I hated her. _Despised. _And that's all I wanted to prove to her. That I hated her. I just couldn't, _wouldn't _let Sammy Keyes get away with causing public embarrassment for me and my friends and...well, _everything _in my life! I would stop to nothing to prove that I was queen. **

**CASEY acosta: She walked away with Heather's hate. And also she walked away with part of me. I mean, how could I _not _think about this girl, who, as everyone says, Has _guts_? Heather totally hates her, I can tell, but I don't. Should I go befriend her? Or should I sit around and let Heather Acosta who (undoubtedly) would try anything, _everything_, to destroy Sammy Keyes's life? My heart chose A but my body chose B. **

**Heather and Casey Acosta are totally different. Of course, they _are _a different age, sex, and person, but they _are _related to each other, and they _should _spend more time together. But they don't. They each have totally different friends, hobbies, and homes. They each have their own _lives. _Now, it's finally time for them to realize just _how _different they are by a girl who enters their lives and changes them forever, in a remarkably different way. **


	2. Heather acosta: Operation A and B

**(A/N: There may be some swearing, so if you are , I dunno…12 and under? Then you should NOT read this!)**

**Heather**

I was mad at Sammy Keyes for causing immortal embarrassment. That meant never ending embarrassment. I would now have to go and get some stupid little teasing, "You got punched by a skinny little seventh grader, Heather! We thought you were better than that!" Yes, I would reply, "Shut up" or "Go to hell" or "Get lost" or "I let her". I would say stuff that made me seem cool. But it was not cool when your parents felt sorry for you and took you out for dinner. See, when we go out for decent dinners, we _all _go out. Divorced parents, annoying brother and all. So we were a Olive Garden, and we were seated at this private little table in the middle of a dozen people. And the sign says We Have a _Privacy _Policy!

Sure.

Right.

Uh-huh.

Anyways, a perky blonde around-her-twenties girl came by and asked, "Whatwouldyoulike?"

My dad was the one who usually talked. (My mother hag PTD. Public Talking Disorder. She doesn't say it, and even though I don't even think PTD exists, my dad never lets her talk, so I assume)

My dad says, "Can you give us a moment to decide?"

The perky blonde nods quickly and steps back. My dad just stares. The blonde is waiting, hands clasped behind back, bobbing on the balls of her feet, three feet away from our table. Finally my dad, exasperated, sighs, "Um, the POLICY?"  
My older brother snickers, and I pretend to be bored, even though I'm dying that my embarrassing family won't start to act psycho in public.

**(a/n: I put that there on purpose!)**

The blonde nods, and rushes off into the kitchen direction. When she leaves, my dad says, "So how was school today?" he glares in my direction.

"Look." I say, "_I'm _not the one who punched some girl, _she _punched _me_."

My dad says, "But there should be a _reason, _right? Last year a Freddie Yorker Elementary, on the last day of school you attacked poor Sally Johnson.

"She bit me."

"You whacked her with a softball bat." Casey, my older brother, says.

I rolled my eyes, "I only whacked her, because she was an annoying butt-head."

"Heather, you cannot just go hurting people because they are annoying."

"Is this Sammy girl annoying?" my mother asks.

"Yes! That high-top wearing freak, she embarrassed me TWO times today!" I say, loudly.

Casey says, "Well, maybe if you weren't such a public humiliation by your_self_, then you could have not had to do what you did—" he paused, "What _did _you do? Was it throwing a bowling ball at her, after stealing it from the locker room? Or was it stabbing scissors in her hand? Or was it slicing her neck off with your fingernails? Or was it the old attempt-to-rip-the-hair-out which always fails?"

I glared at him, "NO." I say. Then I, rather proudly say, "I jabbed her with a pin."

They all gasp, and then my dad says, "What kind of…"

Casey sniggers, "Figures. Leave it to the-good-Heather-who-turned-over-a-new-leaf-for-junior-high to do something sneay like that."

I whisper, under my breath, "Bastard."

My dad hears me and says, "Heath-er!"

My mom just says, "Heather…" In a warning tone.

I roll my eyes, "Well, he _is." _

"Is what?" my mom asked casually, even though she knew what I meant.

"A bas—"

"ENOUGH!" my dad hollered.

I pouted. Casey grinned evilly at me like, "Hah!"

I crossed my arms over my chest as we told the perky girl our orders.

When she was gone, I quickly said, "My plan is to pretend like my nose is broken and—"

My dad cut me off, "Heather—one word to this fantastic little plan of yours—NO."

I said, "Cumm_on_, it'll work!" I explained the plan to them, "Sammy's life will be destroyed! I will be QUEEN!" I laughed a mwa-ha-ha laugh. The family across the aisle from ours looked at me as if I was planning to bomb the place.

Casey said, "You are not going to be able to even get more than a cent before Sammy destroys _your _life."

"Shut up, loser." I said, "Since when have you become the King of Revenge?"

"Since when have you? Oh yeah, when you used a _pin _to prick a girl who got back at you with a bloody _punch." _He snickered, "Your revenge was SOOOO much better."

That was it. I tackled him and started to pull at him.

"What the hell?!?" he said, pushing me off, like he was dusting lint away, "Your annoying, weak, and an embarrassment!" he said.

I started to scream swears I his direction, when Dad finally pulled me off, and scolded me for acting like a let-loose-circus-tiger in a restaurant.

For a while, I just ate my noodles and chicken like I was actually _enjoying _it, but after a minute of watching Casey act like he was eating, but just _sit _there, I ask, "What are you doing?"

He was totally spaced off, his brown eyes staring off into space. "What-? O-oh…!" he said, "I…w-was just s-spaced of…" then he picks at _his _acting like _he _enjoyed it, but I knew something was bugging him.

Which for me, don't get me wrong, was a good thing.

But I was just curious. "Why are you acting to freaky?"

"I'm not!" he snapped, "Mind your own business, Bother!"

"_Heath_er!" I snap back. Then, angry with him for calling me Bother, I push my dad's glass of champagne onto his lap.

"Shit!" he says, "Why'd you do _that?_"

My dad says, "No swearing at the table!" then says, "Heather, please excuse yourself fro five minutes. The bathroom, whatever. Go bug a waiter or something."

I storm off, but I sneak back behind a few plants and watch them.

Casey says, "Geez, I just washed these!"

My dad says, "She is such a bother sometimes."

"Exactly why I called her that!"

My mother says, "Leave her alone, she's emo."

EMO!? I don't even think Mom knew what that was. Probably the reason she used it in a sentence wrong.

Dad and Casey knew she used it wrong, too, so ignored her, too. When Casey was cleaned up, he asked, "Why didn't Heather come back?"

My dad said, "I don't know. But what I don't get it why she punched that girl."

"'Cause she's a dork." Casey said.

My face turned red, No, I was NOT!

Or was I?

I pushed that stupid thought away. I hated Sammy because she was a high-top wearing loser, not 'cause I was a dork!

Which I was not.

"In my opinion, she's cool." Casey said.

I choked back a gasp, WHAT?!

"She has guts..." Casey said.

"Casey…" Dad leans in, "Do you have a _crush?_" he whispered.

Casey looks hesitant, and kind of like he'd been caught, or accused of something he did, "…No…! Way…Dad!" he said.

My mother sakes her head, "Casey, you should not like a girl who your sister hates. She put Heather in immortal embarrassment."

My mother had used my term! I was beaming with happiness for my usually annoying mom who finally stuck up for me.

This was a miracle!

I closed my eyes shut, tightly. Casey could not.

Could not.

Like Sammy Keyes.

Then they would get married!

Sammy Acosta!

And have a kid!

Junior Acosta!

And to get the kid would mean…

Ew! No! Nonono! I would _not _think of these things!

Aaargh! What was _wrong_ with me?

When I opened my eyes, Casey was leaning back in his chair, thinking again.

Was he thinking of Sammy? Or me? Or dad?

Or _mom?_

Okay, scratch the last one. Mom was weird.

But, Casey was…I dunno…_cool _at school, and…if he told people he liked Sammy, _she'd _become cool!

I'd be a disaster!

So that's when I realized it.

I have to plans.

Operation A—Fake Broken Nose

Operation B—Casey would NOT talk to Sammy---EVER.


	3. Casey acosta: Watched from Afar

**Casey ACOSTA:**

I couldn't _actually _believe that a girl had punched my sister. The one who gets revenge on someone who accidentally bumped into her. The one who scratched the waitress at Coldstone because she accidentally got the wrong order. The one who gets pissed at _nothing_ important. The one who my friends and I tend to call Miss Piss.

Heather Acosta.

Fine, maybe I'm taking this a little, uh, _too _far, but give me a _break!_

Miss Piss is totally pissed.

So after Heather came back from the doctor's, and after I came home from school, my dad decided that we would go to a restaurant.

_We _as in the whole family.

As in my mom and the original Miss Piss herself.

And, **yes, **me, too.

So we were all nicely seated in Chili's, while this blonde waitress comes up and totally starts to bug us. After my dad shoos her off, we start a conversation, which ended up with me annoying Heather, and Heather annoying me.

Which ended up with wine on my lap.

Which led to Heather being excused from the table.

Which led to the discussion about...

_Girls._

More precisely...

_Sammy Keyes._

So after a while my dad says, "Do you have a CRUSH?" and he leans in as if he's a gossipy-girl.

"No…! Dad…why?"

Then my mom, _my mom, _sticks up for Heather, and after that I'm quiet. I just lean back, and think about Sammy, and what would happen if I actually went up and talked to her. Would she punch _me _and say, "Get away, you're an Acosta"?

Or would she smile and be my friend saying that despite my relation with Heather. I would take her hand, and we would talk, and maybe sit down on the mall roof (a place I've been going to recently). We would watch the sunset and I would tell her how I feel, then turn and smile, and she'd smile back, and lean in closer and closer…

In the end, we would end up kissing, and then maybe go on a date.

Or two. Then we would go tell Heather, and shove our intertwined hands in her face.

Then, after the satisfaction of torturing Heather, we'd go to Baskin Robbins and share an ice-cream. After that, we'd…

I don't know. I was taking this _way _too far.

A little too much.

There wasn't much I could do but watch from afar, and wish I'd have the guts to go and talk to her.

Nothing at all.


	4. Heather Operation A, Failed

**Heather: Operation A, FAILED**

I slowly frowned, What?

What was going on? Why was Mr. Caan coming up to me, staring at my nose like it was a bomb?

Why was I starting to regret Operation A?

Why was I starting to believe Casey?

Why was I such a failure?

"Heather." Mr Caan demanded, "Take off those bandages right now."

"B-b- Mr- Mr. Caan!" I stammered.

He just shook his head, and waved his hand over my face, "Off. Now. You think you can make a fool of me?"

I stammered some more, but I peeled the sport's bandages off, anyways. So long for my Help Heather Fund and popularity.

I closed my eyes and shook my head slowly, and when I opened them, Mr. Caan was dragging me across the lunchroom.

Oh no!

I forgot my purse!

I quickly turned around and grabbed the Ella Moss purse (which I stole from my mom) , and on the way back, I peeked at Sammy.

She sat there.

Smiling.

High-fiving.

I hated that girl.

I hated, hated, loathed her!

So, instead of being dragged off, listening to Mr. Caan like the good-girl Heather should've, I attacked her.

I pounded my fists against her, but she just quickly twisted my arm back, and then she shoved me to Mr. Caan.

After that, I just tuned myself out of the world. I could hear Sammy's voice, "Yeah! And did she also tell you that she pricked me in the rear end with a pin?"

And Tenille blubbering like an idiot.

I then let myself be suspended, and let myself imagine how many copies of the movie _Saw _I would buy if Sammy played one of the main characters.


	5. Casey acosta: Stooping LOW

**Casey: Stooping _Low_**

There was absolutely NO way I was EVER going to talk to her. NO WAY. I'd seen enough. I'd rather watch from afar and not know her opinions about Heather's relatives at all. I opened and closed my eyes, staring at her walking away, laughing with her friends. I wish I was that happy, but how could I be? I would never be able to talk to her. If only I could talk to her in a place Heather would not find out. But... How could I? Heather was everywhere/ Seriously. I quickened my pace, and walked up to Taylor, who was getting on the bus. I followed him on and sat next to him, "Hey," he said.

"Oh, hi." I said. Then asked him quickly, "YesterdayIsawyoutalkingtoSammyandherfriend."

Taylor nodded, confused, "And...?"

I hesitated, then asked him, "Doyoulikeher?"

"Who?! Her friend?"

"NO! Her!"

"Sa--"

"Yes!" I said, "Her!"  
Taylor looked out the window, "Why would I? She hates Heather, and Heather's your sister and...your my friend."

I rolled my eyes, "Gee, thanks for that fact that I never knew already."

Taylor put his hand on my shoulder, "Dude. C'mon. There is so much more _better _people out there."

"So?"

"Sooo.....why do you like her friend? She's not _that _cool." Then is eyes widened, "Dude! She's rich! Is that why? I never knew you would stoop that low!"

I cry, "NO! Taylor! Two things! First of all, _you _would stoop that low. Secondly, I don't like the friend! I like Sammy! She's just...cool"

I was getting mad ow.

Taylor shrugged, "Your right, man."

I was amazed, "Really?" Wow, and I didn't think Taylor would ever agree with me!

"Yeah, dude, I really _would _stoop that low."

I rolled my again, yet _again._

Would he _ever _get it?

But I had this feeling inside. Somehow, I knew. I knew _no one _would ever get it.


End file.
